The Faded Alibi
The pen hovered over the page, a slender black instrument poised like a needle about to pierce skin. I was forty-two years old, a senior actuary at Meridian Mutual, and I was about to document the exact moment my integrity began to rot. The date was October 14th. The entry was simple: *Sarah is right. The model is flawed. I am wrong.* But the ink had not yet touched the paper. Not yet. I could...
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